GEORGE.
It shall be done, my sovereign, with all speed.
KING HENRY.
My Lord of Somerset, what youth is that
Of whom you seem to have so tender care?
SOMERSET.
My liege, it is young Henry, Earl of Richmond.
KING HENRY.
Come hither, England’s hope. If secret powers
[Lays his hand on his head.]
Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts,
This pretty lad will prove our country’s bliss.
His looks are full of peaceful majesty,
His head by nature framed to wear a crown,
His hand to wield a sceptre, and himself
Likely in time to bless a regal throne.
Make much of him, my lords, for this is he
Must help you more than you are hurt by me.
Enter a Post.
WARWICK.
What news, my friend?
POST.
That Edward is escaped from your brother
And fled, as he hears since, to Burgundy.
WARWICK.
Unsavoury news! But how made he escape?